


Mosaic

by Miss_Vile



Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [7]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Biting, Frottage, M/M, Pool Sex, Season/Series 03, Underwater Blow Jobs, Virus!Jim, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: Oswald and his loves weren’t fractured and broken. They weren’t splintered pieces hastily stitched back together, falling apart at the seams. They were a mosaic of deliberately placed shards of colored glass that you have to take a step back from and view from a distance in order to perceive them in their entirety. No one in the world was willing to give them that. No one but themselves.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon/Edward Nygma (mentioned)
Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661929
Kudos: 10





	Mosaic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inkfowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfowl/gifts).



> It's an insult to myself that I didn't include a Gobblepot fic in this series and I regretted it. So here ya go!

Metropolis was deceptively crisp and clean with all its sharp edges and more modern accouterments, devoid of gothic grit. The rooftop suite Jim booked them for the weekend was far outside what Oswald expected from the former police detective. Electric blue lights lined every metallic surface and made the water of their private pool sparkle. The stark whiteness of the hotel walls strained the Penguin’s eyes. However, the sight of Jim Gordon lounging in the water and smiling up at him added a welcomed ruggedness to the view.

Unlike Jim, Oswald hadn’t thought of their trip to Metropolis as a vacation. They were there to clean up some of Don Falcone’s unfinished business with the Gazzo Crime Family and solidify trade agreements between the two cities. So, when Jim had come home one day with a handful of travel pamphlets, Oswald had dismissed him and insisted that he didn’t have time to worry about the tedium of planning the trip. His two lovers both knew him well enough and rolled their eyes at his predictable excuse for laziness. Edward had shrugged and advised that Jim pick what _he_ wanted and Oswald could complain about the bill later.

Jim and Oswald hadn’t really shared a moment alone, at least not for any length of time. They were always with Edward in some capacity, each with an arm draped over one of Oswald’s. Jim had once confessed how it made him regret how he’d never succumbed to Oswald’s seductions before. Not that Jim loved Ed less, of course. He held just as much affection for the murderous brunette as Oswald. That much was evident to anyone possessing a working pair of eyes— much to the dismay of Jim’s former colleagues. 

Oswald knew that the pair had been intimate on more than one occasion— sometimes even during those brief, heated intervals while the Mayor was preoccupied with constituents or those early mornings before Jim went for his jog and Ed was tinkering away in his workshop. He would always catch them moments later, their hair a tangled mess and lips swollen, and he’d have to stifle a laugh at how endearing the sight was.

But one thing or another always got in the way of Jim and Oswald getting to spend quality time alone and it seemed that Jim was determined to make this trip a memorable one.

They had both come a long way since those early days of cops and robbers. Oswald filled out a little since then, a few more curves here and there as a side effect of his more opulent lifestyle. He was no longer that scrawny little bird struggling to make end’s meet delivering packages of illicit products for Fish Mooney or that doe-eyed sycophant Gotham’s Underworld pointed and laughed at.

Then there was Jim— the disgraced Gotham hero who embraced the gifts the Tetch Virus gave him. Once Jim stopped fighting against the true nature that had been revealed to him and sought out the criminal duo, he was able to maintain a level of admirable control over the abilities it granted him. Allowing him to, on a whim, rip the head off of someone’s shoulders anytime Oswald snapped his fingers or tear off their limbs if they dared aim a gun in Ed’s direction.

“Do you think Ed’s doing alright without us?” Jim asked, admiring the view of Gotham in the distance from the edge of the pool.

“You doubt his ability to hold the throne while I’m gone?” Oswald frowned, kicking at the warm water. Edward stayed behind in Gotham to act on behalf of the Mayor while he was away and to ensure no foolhardy criminal would dare try and usurp them. 

“Of course not,” Jim growled, “We’ve just never been apart… Not since the three of us got together. And a lot can happen in a few days. It _is_ Gotham.”

“I’m certain our meeting with Gazzo tomorrow will end in our favor. We have all of the leverage and even Falcone’s blessing,” Oswald smirked, “After that, we can head back to Gotham early if you’re so worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Jim sighed, “I’m just protective, I guess.” He made a face and mumbled under his breath, clearly at odds with himself. There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth and eyes, a tic Oswald knew well as a side effect of the virus.

One of the more problematic attributes it brought out in Jim was his controlling nature. All three of them suffered the same compulsion to varying degrees, but Jim’s anxiety usually resulted in more _direct_ violence. He prided himself on always being able to make things work out for him but Oswald knew that it was a facade. In reality, Jim was terrified of not being able to meet expectations and, more specifically, of being unable to protect the people he cared about.

“He’s safe,” Oswald reassured him, “Zsasz stayed behind to keep a close eye on security.”

“I know, I know,” Jim chuckled, making his way towards the edge of the pool where Oswald was perched, “I’ll try to not let it distract me.”

“Good. Because I want your _undivided_ attention,” Oswald leaned forward and kissed him, open-mouthed and filthy.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Jim said, his eyes reddening and his cock twitching in his trunks. Unthinking, he gripped Oswald tightly by the arm and dragged him into the water.

Oswald resurfaced, wiped the water away from his face, and glared, “Bastard.”

Jim laughed, drawing him in closer, chest to chest, “You love me anyway.”

“Guilty,” he rolled his eyes. Part of him hated how boyish he felt around his two loves. How they easily lowered his defenses. But he would never trade it, not after how hard the three of them had struggled and clamored through the mud to get where they were. And certainly not after they realized how well the three of them complimented each other and kept them in check. “Drink?”

“Sure,” Jim smirked, rubbing circles at the accidental bruise he left on Oswald’s arm. 

Oswald stood, making a show of how the water glistened on his skin and rolled down his backside. He’d opted to simply not wear anything during their swim, professing that he had _feathers_ to keep him warm in the water. With a wink, he threw on a robe and made his way to the bar beside the pool.

The selection wasn’t top shelf by any means, but Oswald could easily mix up a few cocktails for them. Jim was more of a straight whiskey for breakfast, lunch, and dinner kind of guy so Oswald would have to get creative.

Knowing Jim’s preference for cheaper liquors, he substituted a nicer bourbon for Jack Daniels and added it to the shaker along with some lemon juice, orange bitters, and a splash of grenadine. He poured it all over rocks and topped it off with a slice of blood orange.

Oswald sauntered toward the pool, allowing the silk robe the drop to the ground before dipping his toes back into the water, and handed Jim his drink. He waited for Jim to try it before sipping at his own glass.

“Nice. What’s this one called?” Jim asked, licking his lips.

“A No Man’s Land,” he said. “Pretty simple. Only a few ingredients. Patrons ordered it often back when I was one of Mooney’s bartenders.”

“You were a bartender?”

“Yes. Before Fish promoted me to her umbrella boy,” he frowned a little at the bitter memory and tried to wash it down with his drink.

“Did you get to wear the cute little uniform?” he smirked.

Oswald rolled his eyes so hard it hurt, “Yes, and it was incredibly unflattering.”

“Almost makes me wish I had stumbled into Mooney’s club all those years ago,” he finished his glass and set it aside. His fingers were still cold from the ice and it made Oswald shiver as Jim held him at his waist.

“You wouldn’t have been attracted to me then,” Oswald shrugged, “I wasn’t much to look at and I was still trying to figure out how the game worked. I had good instincts, but that was all I had going for me. And I certainly didn’t have time to indulge in _carnal_ pleasures. Unlike you.”

“Unlike me?”

“Pffft, yes. _You._ Word travels fast when you have a reputation. And I made it a policy of mine to know what makes people tick.”

“And what, pray tell, makes me _tick?”_ Jim asked, amusement painting his face.

“Honestly?” Oswald quirked an eyebrow before glancing down between them, “Your dick.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Jim laughed.

He pulled Oswald closer, possessive and warm. His stubble rubbed Oswald’s skin raw, but he didn’t complain. The blonde tugged at his hair, clawing at his scalp and smiling at the hiss it pulled from the Kingpin.

Their kiss turned up in intensity, neither of them stifling their moans or the obscene sound of their wet tongues swirling behind their teeth. Jim pulled away long enough for Oswald to see the veins bulging around his eyes before the man bared down at his throat, biting and sucking at the skin until it bruised. Oswald clicked his tongue and bemoaned how he would have to apply concealer before their meeting with Gazzo.

Oswald’s fingers teased at the elastic band of Jim’s trunks, tugging lightly and silently seeking permission to remove them. However, Jim pulled away, his face twisted and eyes closed. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“My boys and their voices,” Oswald kissed his temple, bringing his attention back, “What are they saying?”

“Nothing really,” he shrugged, “Ed calls it _brain static._ Just a bunch of jumbled noises that don’t really amount to anything, they’re just sort of there.”

Oswald hummed, noncommittal, and distracted himself in the feeling of his fingertips trailing up and down the firm muscle of Jim’s tricep. 

Jim and Edward had a lot more in common than Oswald had with either of them. Both of them worked on the side of the Light with the GCPD and fell from Grace. Both suffered their own brands of psychosis and hallucinations, granting them a sort of shared language that Oswald pretended to understand. He hated how jealous it made him of them. Like somehow his ability to connect with them was blocked off or that his constant poking and prodding at them might be invasive.

“Hey,” Jim’s voice pulled him back. He sighed as Jim caressed his face with war-calloused knuckles.

They locked eyes and Oswald’s heart swelled. The look Jim wore was one of fondness. This was the Jim he always admired. The one that saw him, _loved him,_ and cherished him with all he could offer. The Jim who spared him at the docks. Who rescued him and Edward from Jervis Tetch all those months ago and threw away his career to maintain their dignity. The man who got drunk one evening and sobbed apologies for all he had put Oswald through back when he denied his feelings.

It reminded him that his jealousy was unnecessary.

Oswald and his loves weren’t fractured and broken. They weren’t splintered pieces hastily stitched back together, falling apart at the seams. They were a mosaic of deliberately placed shards of colored glass that you have to take a step back from and view from a distance in order to perceive them in their entirety. No one in the world was willing to give them that. No one but themselves.

Now able to breathe a little easier, Oswald kissed him again, savoring the taste of blood orange and the harshness of the whiskey. His earlier musings melted away, dissolving in the water that surrounded them and washed them clean of those treacherous thoughts.

Jim rutted against him, causing Oswald to gasp. The movement made him to drift in the water, forcing him to grab Jim by the shoulders so he didn’t float away completely. Jim, in turn, grabbed two fistfuls of his asscheeks and pulled him firmly in his lap.

Suddenly, the idea of renovating the mansion to include an indoor pool seemed like a remarkable idea. Oswald barely even noticed the twinge of pain in his knee and ankle thanks to the warmth of the water and the involuntary shift in his weight.

Jim moaned against his mouth, bucking wildly as he lost himself in the feeling. Oswald raked his nails down Jim’s rock-hard chest, punishing him with sharp love bites down his abs and towards his groin. He winked just before ducking his head under the water and pulled the man’s swim trunks down, discarding the wet fabric and allowing it to float to the surface.

Oswald swallowed him down in one practiced move. He could feel Jim’s growl more than hear it and smirked at how it reverberated through the water. He couldn’t hold his breath for too much longer so he made quick work of Jim’s cock, swirling his tongue and adding suction at all the right intervals. He had to remind himself not to inhale as he gagged and sputtered. The blonde hairs at the base of Jim's going tickled his nose and he lamented the fact that he couldn't breathe him in. His lungs burned so he pulled himself back towards the surface, gasping and rubbing away the ache in his chest. He cleared his throat and chuckled at the sight of Jim with his eyes pinched shut and his grip so tight on the edge of the pool that he’d cracked the cement.

“Come back here,” Jim demanded as he grabbed a fistful of Oswald’s hair and pulled their faces close, mere atoms apart. Oswald knew the man wanted nothing more than to carelessly slam their mouths together, bruising them and relishing delicious copper. But Jim had to maintain some level of restraint since it wouldn’t bode well for Gotham if the Penguin lost _all_ of his inhibitions. Best to play it safe and not let their blood mingle. Jim’s eyes flickered towards his lips as he slowly, shakily, pressed them together. 

Oswald crawled back into his lap and let out a high-pitched moan when Jim wrapped his fingers around both their cocks and stroked them. He threw his head back against the water and allowed his mouth to hang open and scream into the open air. He was already so close just from Jim’s touch alone and the speed at which Jim was going was satiating.

Jim’s other hand kneaded at the plump flesh of his backside, leaving purple bruises in beautiful patterns all along his skin. He loved how Jim would lose control of himself and underestimate his own strength when handling him in bed and then marvel at how he reeled himself back before taking it too far— Even when his immediate partner begged him not to stop.

It was a piece of Jim’s true self he could cradle in his hands. That considerate beast he adored and felt safe with.

Jim came first. His growl pierced through Oswald’s ears and traveled straight to his oversensitive cock. His own climax shot up his spine like a bolt of lightning and caused his entire body to shake. Jim made sure to hold him upright so he didn’t accidentally dip his head under the water.

“I hope you’re aware I’m not done with you yet,” Jim smirked, splashing away the white ropes of cum floating in the water between them.

“Well, I would certainly be disappointed if you were already tired of me before our _vacation_ really started,” Oswald kissed his cheek and nuzzled against his chin.

“I’m just glad you’re as excited as I am to get some fresh air for once,” he hugged him, nuzzling back, “Sorry if it’s not to your tastes. I just thought the change in scenery could do us some good.”

“I suppose it’s not as terrible as I initially thought,” he rolled his eyes, “Especially since I get to spend it with you.”

“Still think the deal will go over well tomorrow?”

“I’m certain of it,” Oswald nodded, “And, if it doesn’t, a little _demonstration_ from you should be enough to put them in their place.”

“So long as it maintains order in Gotham, you just say the word.”

“I knew you’d eventually see things my way,” Oswald said, turning himself around so that he could look out at the harsh black line of Gotham in the distance. Towards home.

"Deep down I always knew you were right," Jim sighed, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling against his wet hair, "I was just stubborn."

"Stubborn and bred to believe that law and order works in a place like Gotham. But our city is another animal entirely, full of twists and turns and literal monsters lurking around every corner."

"Not all of the monsters are bad," Jim kissed the crown of his head.

"Yes, _all of them,"_ he admitted, "There are just those we can trust and those that we can't."

He felt Jim’s muscles tighten around him and could almost hear the voices raging in his head. He wouldn’t take it back though. They _were_ monsters. Pretending that they were anything else would be silly. They were murderers, control freaks, and thieves. Devils with righteous purpose.

“Thank you,” Jim breathed against the back of his neck, “For letting me be one of the ones you can trust.”

Oswald tilted his head and kissed him, his heart bursting at the knowledge that he was _allowed_ to kiss him. That Jim had chosen them, “Of course. I did tell you it was inevitable.”

“You did,” he chuckled.

They remained connected in the water, the sun setting on the horizon. City lights flickered in the distance like angry stars and every green flash reminded them of the piece of them that was missing. Oswald and Jim were happier for their time alone and yet more than eager to settle back into their own bed with their favorite puzzle.

**Author's Note:**

> The next one is gonna be a long boy. And most likely the _actual_ end to this series. Unless, of course, I get new ideas and change my mind again.


End file.
